C Day

April 1,2010. Ironically, one of my favorite days is April fools day-until 2010.  I should back up a bit though so this all makes sense.  It was early March and I am a high school English teacher.  That means one thing: total effin exhaustion.  I was doing my normal early Monday morning routine, rushing.  Rushing to get up just in time to get to school by 7am bell; rushing the kids out the door as they ate breakfast; rushing to make the light at the middle school to drop off my youngest... Rushing is a theme in my life.  I have 5 kids, 4 dogs, a husband, 150 students, countless essays to grade, i.e. I rush.  It is why I have short hair.  Short hair can be washed, dried, and styled in 4 minutes.  Why do I tell you this?  Because that's when I paused. It was the first moment in my life that I remember NOT rushing.  It lasted 8 seconds. While putting the butch wax in my hair that particular Monday morning in March, my finger felt a bump on my neck.  I quickly thought, that's odd and reached back to my neck with my hand again.  Each of the four fingers of my right hand landed this time on their own little bump, just between my ear and my collar bone.  I glanced in the mirror and craned my neck saying, "It's nothing."  That was my pause. Eight seconds.  Let the rushing commence.  For a woman who is the matriarch of a large, young family, 8 seconds was all the time she was allowed to allocate to her own health.
I didn't think of the "4 lumps" once the rest of the day until my conference time at 12:40 pm.  At that time I did what all teachers do when they have an urgent, pressing, personal serious health related question: I went to see the school nurse.  It went something like this:
"Hi, Pam."
"Hi, Jenn!  How are you?  No one ever comes down here to talk to me!  Would you like some coffee?  Where are you going on Spring Break?  Do you have a student teacher now?  That's the only reason you'd have time to come in here for a visit?  Isn't he the wrestling coach too?  Do you think they'll hire him on after he graduates???????'
"Um, ya Josh... What do you think this is on my neck?"
She felt my lumps, took off her reading glasses, felt the other side, squinted and asked, "have you been sick recently, those are lymph nodes, are they tender?"
"Nope. They feel like lima beans under my skin. Don't hurt one bit."
"Well, go see your doctor."
"What is my Gyno gonna do about this?"  I could tell by her blank stare the joke was lost on her.  I explained to her that I hadn't been sick since ever and the only time I had been to the doctor was to have babies.  I didn't even have a Primary Care physician.
She gave me the name and number of her guys and told me if the lumps weren't gone in a week to make sure to see a doc, and so the dance began.
So 3 weeks later i called her guy.  "Sorry, your not an existing patient.  We are scheduling new patient well visits 4 months out right now" the nurse on the phone explained.  I thought I had her there!  "But I'm not well!  I have these lumps on my neck and my school nurse who is a patient of Dr. whatever said...-'
"Sorry, your not an existing patient.  We are scheduling new patients well visits 4 months out..."
Frustrated, i hung up the phone.
I called a doctor I had 12 years prior - retired.
 I called my mom's doctor - isn't taking new patients.
I called several docs of friends and got the same 'existing patient' line.
I even thought, I'll go to the ER... When a friend of mine, a PE teacher, told me I should see his guy.  It went something like this
"My guy has a clinic.  He takes walk ins!!  His name is Dr. Khan. I call him Ghengis Khan; he's korean so my wife calls him the Korean slasher."  And he laughed as he left the faculty lounge.  I then reminded myself why I never take advice from PE teachers.
Great. I had an address and a name.   And my 4 lumps.  It was now late March and I had a Spring Break trip with my family and my sister's family coming in just a few days.  That afternoon i went.
his office was dirty even though it was in a posh part of west county.  Sure enough, I walked in, signed in, and 10 minutes later I was face to face with Dr. Khan. I laughed as I sized him up.  He was a slight man with dirty thick glasses and a dirtier lab coat.  I laughed, not at him, but at me!  How did I end up here?  Is this how I'm going to figure out what these lumps on my neck were?! His accent was thick but I quickly understood the nickname. Our conversation went something like this:
"200 pounds! You need lose some weight! That why you here?"
"No that not why I here.  I mean, no I'm here because I have these lumps on my neck..."
He probed around. Asked about me being sick recently, blah, blah, no, no, no...
Then in his true slasher style, blurted out, "Here antibiotics. You take 10 days. I schedule biopsy for 11 days. Lumps gone then, I no cut."  He then explained to me that after 5 visits, my 6th was free!! Where was I??
I kid you not.  He said those exact words. I left with my "visit card" stamped" and in a true fog.
I came home and told my husband this story and we laughed and cried right through it.  My husband said, "you've gotta be makin this up"
To which I answered, "You can't make this shit up!"
I took my meds and felt my lumps everyday like a good little patient.  With each day that they didn't diminish in size I envisioned the Korean slasher being the one to cut me open for the biopsy!!  I had no idea how spot on my friend the PE teacher had been with the nick name...
We spent that antibiotic run on the beach in Florida with all the kids and my sister and her family.  My husband and I agreed to tell no one.  Nothing to tell until there's something to tell, right?  We did agree over 3 or 4 bottles of wine one night on the beach after the kids were tucked in, that were a biopsy necessary we would find a different doctor.  That night was the first time I literally peed my pants laughing as we relived over and over the Dr Khan appointment.
The referral for a good ENT surgeon to do the biopsy seemed easy enough until the morning of when Dr. Grimm (Remember, you can't make this shit up) cam in and announced that this would be his first biopsy and he was super excited, and he would see us both after the surgery. Dr. Grimm or Dr. Frankencancer??
After, I woke up to a nurse giving me and my husband post op instructions before i was even completely coherent.  I swear I heard her say, "we need the bed" And we were back in the car and i was home before I could ask,"What did Dr. Grimm say?"
My husband looked at me and said, "i assumed that he talked to you - he didn't talk to me."  But he was super excited??
My husband Dan called the surgery center of Dr. Moe Curly and Larry Fine only to find out that Dr Grimm was gone and my results would be back in 7 days; we should make an appointment with Dr. Grimm's office for that.  So we did.  And we waited.
Those were the 7 longest, suckiest days ever.  Of course, I had told my immediate family about the biopsy; it's not something you can readily hide.  I also had to let a few people at work in on it because I was coming in with a sling on my right arm to help immobilize my neck a little.  Once a person knows you have had a biopsy, they want to tell you about every person they have ever met with a cancer cell.  And none of the stories are positive.  I heard one story about a persons uncle that waited for test results, went in on the Friday to find out, test results were late, and he had to wait til Monday!!!
With that story, I went to my classroom the morning of April 1, 2010.  The day I was to get my biopsy results at my 3pm appointment. I called them at 9am, reiterated the story about the uncle, and wanted to make sure my test results were there.  The call went something like this:
"...so if you could make sure my results are actually there, so i don't get there this afternoon to no results and have to wait three more days, ya know/??"
"Oh, sure.  I'll check.  Please hold."
elevator music for an eternity
"Yes, Mrs. Fruhwirth?  The test results are here. We'll see you this afternoon."
"Ya, know what?  Could you just tell me now?  I found these lumps a month ago... I got the biopsy 7 days ago... Dr. Grimm was supposed to talk to me after the surgery and either he didn't or I was too stoned to remember... since I'm on the phone and you have the results, like you said, could you just tell me? Please?"
"Um. Please hold."
No, really!  That's what she said!
"Yes, Mrs. Fruhwirth?  The test results are here. If you could just come in this afternoon-that would be great."  And she hung up.  You can't make this shit up.
So there I am. Sitting in the waiting room with all the ENT patients who are 100+ waiting to get their new hearing aids.  It is promptly 3pm when I sign in.  I watch the procedure of the stack of the colored folders (patient charts) placed in the bin marked GRIMM. Mine is bright orange.  As each person signs in their folder is placed on the bottom of the stack.  I eagerly stare at mine, willing through the power of my mind to make it rise more quickly to the top as my husband reads Fox and Hound. (Really, Fox and Hound??)  Who could read now anyway!!??  My blood pressure had to be 298/173.  And we waited.  Every time I heard the door open from the back, my head snapped to the stack of folders.  I heard "Megan" (the other receptionist) announce, "I'm back from my break!"  And the girl that had put my folder in the stack went over, pulled my folder from the stack, marked its place with a yellow Post-It, and flipped it open to show "Megan" something.  Then she pointed to me.  No one in the room was looking at them but me to see this, but "Megan" gasped and instantly cupped her hand over her mouth.  All three of us embarrassed, and I stymied trying to comprehend and not comprehend what I had just witnessed, felt my breath catch in my chest and feel the floor fall away.  Suddenly, I wasn't in such a hurry for my folder to get to the top of the stack anymore.  I looked around the room.  No one had seen it but me. My husband had missed.  The old man hocking up a lung next to me had missed it. Only me.  I looked at the desk.  "Megan" was gone.
My folder was back in the stack and it was now on top.
At 3:30, the med tec from the back called my name and picked up my folder.  Now at this time, I need to take a few minutes and talk to doctors, doctor's office staff, and the like about how effin inportant it is to keep appointment times.  My appointment was for 3pm.  I was there at 3pm.  I almost had a stroke, killed "Megan" and another receptionist for their unprofessional behavior, fainted, had a nervous break down, beat the piss out of my husband with a Fox and Hound magazine for no reason, attacked an old man solely for coughing up a flem ball because I had 30 minutes with which to do these things.  If your patients arrive on time for their appointments, please have the courstesy of seeing them at the appointment time. Thank you. This has been a public service announcement.
As I was saying, we were taken back by a med tech. He began to take my vitals.  At this point, I believe I had some sort of break with reality.  It went something like this:
"Hi, my name is David and the doctor will be right in.  I just need to get your weight, your temp, your blood pressure, your astrological sign, your mother's maiden name, your last three legal addresses, your dog's name, you favorite ice cream-"
I began to sob as I said, "I'm here for test results, I've been waiting in the waiting room since 3 o'clock, and Megan saw my chart and sheeeeeee gasped, and then, we waited for 30 minutes and this morning I called, and I know my blood pressure is off the charts...."  That's what i was trying to say.  What came out of my mouth probably sounded more like, "I'M HERE RUSLTS TEST, 3PM, MEEGAAAAAAAAN, AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND, 30 MINUTES, DR. GENGIS KHAN THE SLASHER, AND AND AND AND AND AND ANND, YOU DON'T NEED NOOOO BLOOD PRESUUUUUUURE!!"
I always meant to go back and apologize to that guy. Never did.  Feel just awful about that.
As I sobbed uncontrollably into my husbands shoulder, my husband quickly explained that David should just get the doctor.
I repeated in my head over and over through the tears, don't let it be cancer, don't let it be cancer, don't let it be cancer... even though I already knew.
Dr. Grimm came in.  "You have cancer.  Hodgkins Lymphoma. this is the first time I've ever biopsied and whoa, it's cancer!"
 Dr. Frankencancer (thanks Dan Duffy) was practically salivating and I was crying.
I thought my husband was gonna punch him.  You see, my husband is country.  Where he grew up you beat em up and asked questions later.  And the way he saw it, this guy just gave me cancer.  I looked up at Dan and snapped my fingers.  Then I did the same to Dr. Frankencancer. Focus, boys.  I wiped my snot, stopped crying and said, "What's Hodgkins Lymphoma?"
"I don't know."
"I had the biopsy a week ago, you had a couple of days... couldn't you have looked that up of something?"
"Oh, I knew right after the surgery, seven days ago.  I just didn't thinnk to look it up.  You'll have to see an oncologist."
"Thanks, well what's the prognosis?  Does this kind kill me?"
"Yeah, I don't know, again oncologist."
"Well, what kind of treatment is there... ?  I know"  we said in tandem "oncologist."
Then Dr. Grimm said, "If there's anything I can do..."
I said, "Are you married?"  and he nodded much like my chocolate lab. "Well, if I were your wife, where would you send me?"
he darted out of the room and came back and said, "You have an appointment with Dr. Craig Hildreth at 9am on Monday  morning.  He's known as the warm and fuzzy oncologist.  He specializes in this kind.  He's the best."
I flashed back on my journey thus far:  the inability to get an appointment with any doctor quicker than 4 months out; to Dr. Khan and his buy 5 get one free practice, his dirty glasses and dirtier office; to 'you take these - it no go away we cut'; to Dr. Grimm and the waiting room of horror; to 'Megan' the gasping receptionist; to my psychotic break and the poor med tech.  Then I remembered the date:  April Fools!!!

Happy Easter Eve

My family has lots of traditions: watching National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation when  we decorate the tree each year, picnic dinner by the lower Muny lot complete with tree climbing before the Forest Park Balloon Glow every September, sledding on Art Hill, taking the dogs swimming at the Black River on a tri-summer day trip, all 7 of us picking our favorite appetizers/junk food/desserts and staying home for New Year's Eve, volunteering as a foster family for St. Louis Stray Rescue, 6 hour Monopoly on snow days, Christmas Eve at Aunt Reenie's and Christmas day at mom and dad's, my daughters planting basil seeds every spring, etc.   Tonight we are continuing with that vein by cooking a traditional Thanksgiving turkey dinner the night before Easter.  We try to remember that Christ gave his life for us and for that we should remember to be thankful.  We try to focus the kids the day before because on Easter Sunday they are very distracted by brightly colored eggs and tons of sugar.  So thanks Jesus!  And Happy Easter everyone.

Do you believe in fate?

Recently, I began teaching William Shakespeare's The Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet, again.  If my math is right, I have been teaching for 18 years and 14 of those years I have taught freshman which means teaching Romeo and Juliet.  If you multiply that times the number of classes I taught in those 14 years, I think I have read this play somewhere around 84 times!  Woof!  But each year I begin this daunting task and am met with groans and sighs from my still wet behind the ears, 9th graders.  And each year, it magically becomes exciting and funny and challenging and interesting and surprising and fun and unforgettable!  I have colleagues that bemoan this play and Freshman in general.  I don't understand it!  My kids start the unit of study believing that this will be boring, difficult; then they come to it like they always do, with enthusiasm, wide-eyed optimism, intelligence, and a fresh sense of humor.  Before you know it they are entering my classroom and asking, "Mrs. Fruhwirth, are we reading the play again today?  Are we re-casting?  Can I be Mercutio?"  You should know, most high school students don't ask what they will be doing when they enter a classroom.  They see that time as their time to socialize, get a piece of gum, run to the water fountain.  They may say hello or good morning; they may smile and nod, but they rarely ask what they will be learning about.  Every year they start making inquiries on a daily basis during this unit.  So I have to ask why?  Is it the concept of teenagers in a love story that they are relating to?  Is it that they relate to being misunderstood by their parents?  Is it that I explain all of the dirty jokes in the play?  I know it isn't that they want to know how it ends, I tell them the ending on the first day!  (By the way, so does Shakespeare in the first 20 lines of Act I :)  So what is it that gets them hooked?  Maybe it is FATE.  Maybe it is fate that lands them in my classroom.  Maybe it is fate that they end up in the seats they are assigned in, the groups that they "form".  I have them talk about fate as we begin this unit and I will have you know, none of them believe in fate!  So how is it that all of these 14 year old realists, that haven't experienced "love at first sight", few believe it exists at all,  that don't buy into the concept of fate AT ALL, end up being soooo into this play?  It is something they confound me with annually.  When we finish they ask if we can do another Shakespeare unit.  When asked at the end of the semester which unit they liked best the majority answer: Romeo and Juliet.  They overwhelmingly come back to me as sophomores and juniors and ask me to tell them about the English IV elective: Shakespeare's Plays when it comes time to make their course choices.  Maybe they are just at a precipice in their young lives where they are ripe for the concepts of love, intrigue, smarmy humor, young adulthood, independence... and this unit has all that.  If that is true, does this simple, classic piece of literature change them in a profound and permanent way?  Isn't that what we want literature to do for kids in school anyway?  Inspire them?  Make them think?  Help them grow up?  I honestly don't know.  I will leave it at this:  I am a teacher, a great one.  I have objectives that I must meet each year and I do.  But I get a peek into what I am really accomplishing on this planet, what I am responsible for in my job when I teach this unit each year; helping build great, creative, funny, independent, thinking people.  I think of this when I talk to the man upstairs and I hope he thinks I am doing a good job.  :)

I'm thinking about writing a book...

After the billionth coworker stopped me in the hall yesterday and thanked me for my funny, insightful, bold emails, I began thinking, Everyone else has done it, why not?  Referring of course to writing a book.  Hell, if Justin Bieber can write his memoirs at the age of 11.5, then I, at 39, can, too.  What to write is always the sticking point.  I tried my hand at fiction several times over the years.  The short stories were good but the novels got entirely too real and were quickly set aside.  Somehow when a writer writes, or when this writer writes, the veil falls away, too much truth sneaks in, and you find yourself naked on the page; suddenly thinking, I can't write this; everyone will know!  I have always had a voice.  Since I won my first writing award in the 4th grade for penning Don - the Chocolate Snowman, I knew I had a distinctive, witty, snide, sarcastic voice.  But what did that voice have to say? In the big picture, if you aren't writing about something significant, WHO CARES?  But what is significant?  What matters to me, certainly doesn't matter to most.  I mean, just look at my blog; I'm all over the map!  But I digress :)  I am beginning work on a book.  It is kind of about cancer, kind of about teaching, kind of about my family; it's about me.  I will probably write about it here again soon.  Wish me luck and send me your thoughts.

Waiting for Superman

Did anyone watch Oprah on Monday, September 27?  She screened the movie, Waiting for Superman, with her audience and had several superintendents and Charter school advocates as guests.  I agree that the educational system in the US needs help... BUT! 
First, Let's get a few things straight.  FACT: The US ranks 24 out of 29 countries tested last year in math.  BUT... when we compare our test scores to those of countries like India there is something you need to hear along with that fact.  India only educates the students that value education and can afford to be educated.  They, like many other countries, and unlike the US do NOT make education mandatory.  Therefore when they (in India) do national testing, they are testing their best and their brightest, only.  We in the US test everyone.  Every student between 3rd grade (a level that state mandated testing begins) and 12th grade is tested.  The rules have gotten really strict over the years, too.  States only qualify for state and federal money if all tests are complete and since no child left behind every child, with every disability's, test score must be counted to continue to get funding. So the US ranks low, because we include every brain surgeon and every dim bulb.  Every kid that tries really hard and every kid that fills in the dots and takes a nap.  So how relevant are these rankings?  How would the US look on that list were we to test only the kids that really wanted to take the test? 
Secondly, CHARTER SCHOOLs are not the answer!  Oprah seemed to think if everyone was in a charter school, with a GOOD teacher, then every kid would be a rocket scientist.  NO.  The kids in charter schools that are successful are there because their family values education.  Mom reads to the kids.  Dad checks their homework.  Someone goes to Parent Teacher Conferences, EVERY TIME!  If we were to take every kid, from every failing school and plunk them into a charter school, Guess What??  You would get the same population getting the same test scores.   What I ask Oprah is, where is the parent responsibility?  Where is the student responsibility? 
Third, if I hear the words "bad teacher" one more time, I think I will have a stroke!  While yes, there are teachers that are protected by unions and stay in classrooms longer then they should, I think "bad teachers" are way down the list of who's to blame for our current situation.  The Oprah show made is sound like you could throw students off the roof and the union could make it impossible to fire you.  I don't know how it is everywhere else but in Missouri the state dictates how teachers are disciplined.  They have to go through "phases" (awareness phase, correction phase, etc).  No set time is connected to each phase.  How long each phase lasts depends on the severity of the infraction and at the discretion of the administrator.  Tenure means nothing if you have done something wrong or aren't teaching properly.  So maybe the rest of the country needs to take the lead of the state of Missouri when it comes to Performance Based Teacher Evaluations. 
Finally, with the technology and resources that every school (yes, even inner city, public schools) have in 2010 maybe we should be looking at what has changed over the years with respect to students:  their family situations.  Tell me what you think! 

Upon request: "than or then"

While you are at it, oh mistress of the English language, could you please reiterate the very simple yet critical difference between the words "then" and "than". I've seen every form of text from email to newsprint to corporate websites that misuse/interchange these two words as though either is acceptable in either one's place.

By Joe on ...and they're off, or is it 'their', or 'there'??... on 9/15/10

  

Thank you for your comment, Joe.  To answer the above comment from Joe:

You bring up another of about 1000 ways I see students and adults butchering the English language on a daily basis!  All of them make me cringe.  The "then/than" mistake ranks pretty high.  Most people don't distinguish between the two word - how this happened, I don't know.  These two words are NEVER interchangeable.  The rules are:

Than is used in comparative statements. 

EXAMPLE:  He is taller than I am.

Then is used either as a time marker or with a sequence of events.

EXAMPLE:

I took all of the exams in the morning, and then I spent the rest of the day catching up on sleep.

Just like other grammatical and syntactical mistakes, rushing through what you are writing is to blame!  I am surprised that no one brought up "effect/affect" - clearly the definitions of these two words have been erased from our scope of knowledge, too. FYI:

Affect with an a means "to influence," as in, The rain affected Amy's hairdo.

Affect can also mean, roughly, "to act in a way that you don't feel," as in, She affected an air of superiority.

Effect with an e has a lot of subtle meanings as a noun, but to me the meaning "a result" seems to be at the core of all the definitions. For example, you can say, The effect was eye-popping, or The sound effects were amazing, or The rain had no effect on Amy's hairdo.

...And don't even get me started on commas!!  By the way, I don't even enjoy teaching grammar but I understand the need to learn, and more importantly, remember it!

 

 

A Great Loss

Late last night I got a call from "the phone chain" at work.  It was a fellow teacher at OHS calling to tell me that Ken Kolwyck, a science teacher in our building, died suddenly.  I wanted to write something here to pay homage to a great teacher, person, and friend.  I will always remember Ken with his yellow smiley face coffee mug in hand, bound for the office each morning at 7am.  He would greet me as I ascended the stairs to my classroom.  He was always in the building early - way before me.  And he always stayed late, helping kids with labs, make up work, tutoring, etc.  He was always the outspoken voice of reason on our staff.  I admired him for always sticking to his convictions, speaking his mind, and understanding this sometimes ridiculous business of education.  He and I spoke often and agreed vehemently that what all students needed was the bar to be raised.  He saw that when he raised the bar in his classroom and held that high standard, his students rose to challenge, every time.  He was a man that always said good morning, always had a smile, was amazingly good at what he did, and will be sorely missed.  God bless and God's speed my friend.